ing being, he felt her
charm as well, and could not quite resist it.

He rode fast and far, till the level road, through a turn or two,
brought him into a well-wooded tract where bluffs and willow clumps
suggested running streams. He left the road and, dismounting, guided his
wheel between projecting roots and stumps, down through a winding
cow-path which led to a lick below. Here, discarding shoes and stockings
he waded the stream, and entered a charming dell where nature had been
lavish of adornment. In fact, one might almost have thought time and
human ingenuity had assisted nature, for a wild grapevine was so linked
from bough to bough between two tall trees as to form a perfect bower,
and as if to protect the opening from intrusive onlookers, a sort of
_chevaux-de-frise_ of tall ferns waved their graceful banners up to meet
the drooping lengths of vine waving from the tree.

Toward this bower Dan bent accustomed steps, sliding his wheel into a
copse of young oaks that hid it completely, then parting the growing
ferns, as if he needed no guide to tell him just where the
well-concealed opening might be. As he, stooping, entered, the graceful
fronds sprang back to position, like sentinels who have separated an
instant to let the master pass, but quickly resume place to guard his
hidden presence well.

Inside, Dan glanced about and saw with pleased eyes the undisturbed,
familiar aspect of the spot. In one corner was a large heap of dry
leaves, which might have drifted there last Fall, but did not, and in
any case made an excellent bed for a camper. In another, an
innocent-looking tree-root projected from the earth. With a quick jerk
Dan dislodged it, showing an excavation below, which had been neatly
walled in with stones. Removing the largest one, at the bottom, he
disclosed a rough box sunken in the soil, from the compartments of which
he drew forth all the articles he needed for his simple supper--an old
coffee-pot, an alcohol lamp with its attendant rubber-corked bottle, a
frying-pan of small dimensions, a can of shaved bacon, salt, pepper, and
so on.

By this time a look of peace, yes, even a sort of tame joy, had replaced
Dan's gloomy expression, and one could see that, in a way, he was happy.
Getting out his fishing-rod from its enveloping blanket he presently
emerged, recrossed the stream, and soon could be seen pushing out into
the midst of it, poling an old punt up stream. Anchoring presently in a
small